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Emily Brandt

The Body to Land



We are grounded to disaffection and some people

can make the invisible visible. Maybe we don’t count

how much food we eat, if our dreams

contain currency. Do people nighttime dream

about money? I dream about boats every night.

Always a crossing, always the water holding me

in space. I think how to hold space. What

attention, what eyes and breath. What bodies

in a room, only some parts visible. What a forearm

can tell a stranger. What radiates

in the space around the body. How to hold

what radiates as real. How to get so still how

to feel your heart beat. Wrap your legs

in denim. Wrap your feet in leather. Wrap silk

and wool around your shoulders. Cotton

your sex, your breasts. Wrap the plants

and other animals. Your body can move

through this world before it decomposes. If

I did not make my wishes clear, it’s this: burn

my body. Just one wish. The other

animals burrow. Their bodies are

food. I burrow into blankets, into the cave

of winter building, the water lapping below.

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